


Death and Taxes

by vanillafluffy



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: AU, Canon Divergence - Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Gen, Minor Character Death, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Sad, Sad Ending, Steve Rogers Feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-28
Updated: 2020-01-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:07:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22445332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vanillafluffy/pseuds/vanillafluffy
Summary: For the prompt, "Steve made the sacrifice play, not Tony.". He goes out with a quote from one of the Founding Fathers and one last good deed.
Kudos: 19
Collections: Bite Sized Bits of Fic from 2020





	Death and Taxes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Aivix](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aivix/gifts).



_**I am inevitable.**_ states Thanos.

“In the words of Benjamin Franklin, only two things are certain,” Steve Rogers growls. “Death and taxes. And we’ve already paid a terrible price for your folly.” He raises his arm, the Infinity Gauntlet shining, stones twinkling in the hazy light of the battlefield.

He snaps his fingers.

For a moment, nothing seems to happen. Then Thanos sits down, slowly, and crumbles into dust. Their war is over.

Steve stands motionless. His expression is neither happy nor sad. He seems to be concentrating. “Can’t leave things a mess like this,” he murmurs, and snaps again.

The carnage-strewn ground is once more fields and forest, peaceful and undisturbed. “That’s better,” he declares. Then his knees buckle. He goes down.

Bucky and Tony reach him at the same time. There’s something wrong with the left side of Steve’s face, it seems to be flaking away, and a line of blood oozes from his left ear. He blinks. Says, “It’s okay. I’ve been on borrowed time since 1934.”

“No, no, no--punk, you can't leave me like this!” Bucky pleads.

“Sorry, Buck. End of the line…” His eyes seek Tony’s. “No more fighting. Promise me.”

“I promise.” Tony says. He’d promise anything, in this moment, to give Steve peace. 

Bucky is clinging to Steve’s right hand, but he extends his left. Tony seizes it and shakes. “I got no beef,” Bucky tells his friend. “but don’t go. Please, don’t go.”

“Good,” Steve breathes. And then he’s gone.

The funeral, at Bucky’s request, is modest. Steve wouldn’t have wanted a fuss. He’s laid to rest in the family plot beside his parents, a space that’s been waiting for him for nearly ninety years. There’s no flashy memorial, no carved marble statue, no bronze likeness, Just a simple granite rectangle engraved with the words

STEVEN GRANT ROGERS  
GOD BLESS AMERICA

“He could never back away from a fight,” Bucky says to the handful of mourners attending the private ceremony. “Didn’t matter if it was a kid twice his size, five kids twice his size or the entire German army. He wasn’t going to be pushed around, or let anybody push somebody else around. It’s who he was. This…was inevitable.”

…


End file.
